Ok this is a story ive been working on for some time now. it got deleted when i washed my hard drive and im slowly rewriting it. if you like it let me know and i can keep you updated with later additions. thanks and i hope you like it. DemonOgre.

P.S. not erotica, sorry.

County Morgue

A novel/short story series by S."Demonogre666” Baczik





Prologue:
Our world was dying, being killed by the ones who called it home. After several centuries of constant pollution and over development have taken their toll on our mother. In a effort to try and save the last vestige of our home a secret sect of old world practitioners use all of their resources, to attempt an ancient ritual to revive out world. In the final moments of the ritual an eruption of energy devastating every thing for a mile. In the aftermath, the rest of the world had to face a new and unsettling fact; what ever had been done in the ritual, it had worked. With a newly reinvigorated world all that had been the cause for its ills had stopped effecting it for the most part.
The primary objective had been achieved, in addition to the world regaining it’s strength, the people felt a change as well. Certain people had been changed, as if the humans just had an awakening of there own. At first it manifested as small changes in there physical appearance, then escalated to whole new genetic off-chutes,a whole laundry list of mythological genepools resurfaced all over the world. Now in a world of constant uncertainty, in a nation of unrest, and in the city of constant chaos. We leave off with detective Benjamin Crowley of the N.Y.P.D. Occult division.

Chapter One:

A day in the life.

I woke up to the usual sounds of life in hell’s kitchen; gun shots, sirens, sounds of vagrants retching into dumpsters, the intangible muttering of drug dealers making pitches to kids. Your usual morning for the area, the only thing that wasn’t was the hangover from the cheap booze I pounded the night before. Luckily I was awake when dispatch called me, asking if I could go out to one of the old state mortuaries that also had their own grave yards, one of the ones that used to be a church back in the old days I guess.
The dispatch operator also let me know that my partner would be by to pick me up in about fifteen or so. ”Thanks Janice” was about all I could muster saying at that point as I hung up the phone.

Not looking forward to doing just about anything at this point I forced myself out of bed, and walked over to the kitchenette of my studio apartment and started digging through the heap of pizza and take out boxes witch consisted as my usual dietary staples. I finally unburied my coffee pot, cleaned it out and started a pot. I went to my closet and found one of my cleaner suits.
A while later my partner showed up. Sean Thompson, my partner, a medium sized man with a temper to match his Irish heritage, I let him in and
Finished getting ready. “So Ben, what is it you think they’re calling ’us’ out for? Cultists, pagan fanatics, eh necrophiliacs even? Come on I want to hear what your thinking’.” I paused for a moment, shrugged groggily and then continued looking for my shoulder holster. “Well Sean, you help me find my goddamn holster and I’ll tell you my thoughts on it.” He started digging through a pile of dirty laundry by my living room chair, “ Ah, here it is Ben. But you might want to clean it off a little, there’s some kind of goopy shit on there.” He said with a bit of a chuckle as he handed it to me.

I grabbed it and started to clean it at my kitchenette. “OK Ben, I know you make more on salary to afford a better place than this. I mean honestly, Hell’s kitchen? There’s got to be better area’s on the city to live.” I looked at him quizzically “You know damned well why I live here, we work in the occult and unexplained.” I said as I walked over to my makeshift library that used to be my walk-in closet and opened the door revealing my sizable occult library.

“When two guys like us show up on the scene with a certain selection of books, book I remind you that have a tendency to be bound in and with questionable materials. It tends to have an adverse affect on most public situations.” I answered while I was thumbing through the books that I had come to possess over the years, and with questionable, and sometime unscrupulous acquisition home. “My thoughts on what this may entail, I have no fuckin’ clue. Could be anything but I’ll put money that it’s something trying to played off as a hoax.”
I paused “So witch one is it?” I asked Sean. “Oh” he started to think for a moment. “It the Collins mortuary just north of the city.” Great I thought we’re getting sent up to an old, gloomy mortuary that just so happened to have its own grave yard, kooky huh?

We got our things together and climbed in Sean’s car. We made our way up to the mortuary just after lunch, it could wait. When we arrived we were greeted by the proprietor a Mr. Caliban Collins. He greeted rather hurriedly as he lead us to the room in question. “This is it, detectives.” he said as we walked in to a room that looked as though it served two purposes. A morgue with an autopsy table and an embalming room, I got the second conclusion from the acrid stench of formaldehyde that permeated the air of this room.
On the table was a body covered on a pastel green medical sheet so only the feet were visible. I walked over to it and read the toe-tag that read “Wilson Vickus, male, age: thirty five, cause of death: unknown. Well Mr. Vickus, hope you don’t mind if we take a look around, do you?” I said.

“Really Ben talking to the dead? that’s creepy.” said Sean as we started to inspect the room while we walked around it looking for any mundane clues that might help us before we really went to work. “So how old is this place, uh, Mr., Dr., Collins?’ I asked trying to gauge the so far only witness.
“It was built back in 2012, after that nasty war in the middle east.” he said.
“Wow, that’s was a good hundred something years back.” Sean said. “This place is bound to talk in some way or another.” he finished.

Collins face went a little dumbstruck at the statement, “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, but I’m not going to pry, um if you gentlemen need me I’ll be seeing to some things in my office.” he said as he walked out of the room. “Kinda odd if you asked me.” I said after I knew he was gone. I lit a cigarette as I kept pace with Sean on the preliminary stroll of the crime scene. “Man, I can’t find anything” said Sean as we finished, I put it out on the polished concrete floor of the slightly imposing room, when I noticed what looked like chalk by my shoe. I knelt down to get a better look. “Sean hand me some gloves.” I asked. After I had the gloves on I reached down and ran my finger across it, rubbed it between my fingers to gain the texture of how coarse or fine the granules were. Then I smelled it to see if it might have had a scent. Then just to be sure I scooped some up in a tiny evidence envelope, and walked back to the table where we had set up some of our lesser equipment.

“Hey Sean look at this.” I said waving him over, as I poured it out in to a small dish. “What is that?” he asked me.
“looks kinda like that dust you get after using chalk, but I've never seen black, well not in a long while.” he concluded. “Well I’m not sure if it’s even chalk or whatnot. Hand me that field analyzer.” I finished. When he brought it over and set it on the table, I slid it so it was in front of me, and I placed the residue in question in it and turned it on. “So how long does this thing take?” I asked. “Oh, about five, ten minutes. Depends on how much material you have to work with.” Sean answered. He was always better with the mechanical stuff and gadgets and the like. About three minute went by as we waited on the machine to finish doing it’s job, when it started to skitter across
the table.

THWHACK! Was the only sound I heard as Sean slammed his fist down on top of it startling me in the process. “Goddamned, mother-fucking, shitty-ass, outdated tools!” Sean spat as the machine made a ringing bell sound and printed out the report. I grabbed it and ripped off the slip of synthetic paper and read it.
“Calcium carbonate, soapstone, residual basalt, obsidian, onyx, hematite, iron, coal, black dye, shale, mica.” I read aloud. “not your every day sidewalk chalk.” Sean said with a smirk. “No.” I said as I walked over to the sink and looked around for some thing that could hold a good amount of water.
“Well I think something like this is a specialty product, you know, like from one of those hole in the wall occult shops you’d find in a bazaar or some thing.” he trailed on.

I found one gallon steel pitcher in one of the cabinets and started filling it with water. “You know I think you may have some thing there Sean. Now the question is witch one? Because, if we end up looking they wont talk easily.” I replied as the pitcher finally filled. “Now I ask you, where would we start? There’s got to be easily a hundred of those little curio shop in this city.” I continued as I walked to the center of the room and knelt down. “Well I hadn’t gotten that far yet.” he stated as I began to gently pour the water on the seamless and smooth floor. “What are you doing Ben?” Sean asked as it beaded out towards him. “You’ll see.” I replied. As the water pooled out across the floor washing over a detailed array of lines that were drawn all over the room with the chalk. “That’s what.” I finished with a wry smile.

Noticing a pattern in the lines, I climbed up on the table we were using and looked down, and saw a large ritual circle redrawn before me. “Sean get your ass up here.” I said snapping my fingers and motioning for him to come over. "What're you doing up there? Cause I don't have any singles" Sean chortled as he reached up for a hand up. "Nice joke man, now check out the chalk lines around the room." As we stood there on the table and panned around the room, I finally pieced it together. "Shit!" I muttered as I hopped down and hurried to my books, as I dug deep into the old tomes we brought. "What's up Ben?" Sean ask sounding a little concerned, "You look like you just saw a ghost-" He trailed off as I found the tome I was rooting for, and packed it over to the table. It was a huge tome about 30 cm thick, and bound in a black-ish grey leather. With an old thick black iron lock with no key hole and ancient runes engraved all over it. No matter what I did with it, it always reeked of old blood, some family heirloom. "This is what I was after Sean. The Crowley family Grimoire." I said as I ran my hand over the face of the book, where the my family's coat of arms had been about two or three centuries ago. "Um this is all well and good but, how do we get it open?" Sean asked as I stood there staring into the mysterious leather.


"We don't, I do." as I pulled out my pocket knife and opened it up and brought it to the middle finger on my right hand and pressed it in until it touched the bone. "Holy shit, Ben! what the hell!" Sean exclaimed as the blood began to run out of my finger as the drops of blood seemed to gravitate toward the books lock. "Sean this is how the book works." I replied as pressed my finger to the black iron lock, witch drank in the blood to fill the runes that covered it. The lock slid open without a sound and the pages within sighed a breath of relief from their loosening confinement. I reached over with my left hand and opened the book. The Leather creaked softly, and the pages rustled with what seemed like anticipation. "What in the hell is this book exactly?" Sean finally manged to ask. "This my friend, is the Black manuscript of Alistair Crowley. My direct ancestor." I replied as I finally removed my finger, since the had taken it's toll out of me. "It's the sum of all of his knowledge in one tome, but it takes the blood of a Crowley willingly given." I continued as I pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped the finger I had just cut with it. "Blood for knowledge. Must've been the old family motto." I said with a sarcastic grin.

Sean went to turn the page, and I just managed to grab his hand. "Don't do that, Sean. It's a family thing, Crowley's only." I stated hesitantly. "I'm not sure how it would react to some one out of the bloodline. It's been a mix of good and bad through out the years, but I think there's a hint to all this in there." i finished as I let go of Sean's arm. "OK Ben no worries. Do your thing-" He stopped in mid-sentence as one of the many gadgets in his bags went off beeping like a Geiger counter at ground zero. Sean got a very quizzical look on his face and sauntered over and picked up something that looked like a PDA mixed with a scanner gun. "Um... Yeah so, eh yeah I'll just keep taking reading from over here and you can poke around in the old family-" "Ben, what is up with that book?!" He asked looking rather spooked, I think mostly because he and his gear were all up-to-date and state-of-the-art when it came to the science of figuring out the arcane, I guess neither of them could make heads or tails of it. "Chill, Sean. This is 'old' magic, the kind you don't run across very often with all that shit everyone calls modern magic." I sat my hand on the page. It felt like warm silk, smooth and supple, totally deceptive given the age of it, and the appearance of the brittle parchment. Page after page I turned carefully looking for the ritual I had seen years ago when my father had shown me how to open the book.

After what seemed like an eternity of turning the ancient pages that seemed to have no end, I found it with a small shout of victory. "Hah! Edlemount's circle of deamon counjuring..." I trailed off in mid-sentence with the dawning notion of what actually transpired here last night. I felt a Horrible cold freeze my guts solid for a few moments as I felt the color drain from my face. "That doesn't sound good Ben." Sean noted, but to me in those few frigid moments his voice sounded muffled. I exhaled deeply and turned around. "No Sean it's not good at all, and I personally hope that whoever did this knows what the fuck they're doing." I replied as I continued studying the ritual. The circle was identical, but the one thing missing was the body, but I knew it got up and walked away. Literally. "Sean, check the freezers, see if any that have bodies aren't missing." He gave me a a thumbs up and hopped to it, going to each freezer with one of those clip boards in the door. Each one opening with a frigid hiss, and slowly making the room grow cold. I felt my skin get goose bumps from the cold, and gave a small shiver.

It took Sean about five minutes to go through all of them, he wore a bemused look on his face. "You know I hate being in the dark, and this is some dark shit. By the way all the bodies are counted for."